


Distance

by queenseamoose



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 21:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12993009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenseamoose/pseuds/queenseamoose
Summary: Prompt: Things you didn't say at allThe pain is still fresh, but they have a war to win, and she can't avoid him forever.





	Distance

Walking in here hurt.

The walls themselves were alive with color and stories, but her heart had never felt more dead. She hesitated in the doorway, memories slipping out from where they’d been locked away in the far corners of her mind. Memories of all the time spent in this room–and of her last conversation that took place here. But although she wanted nothing more than to flee, what she’d come here for was too important to turn away now.

He stood with his back to her, preoccupied with something on his desk. If he heard the sound of her boots on the stone floor, he didn’t acknowledge it, and she swallowed hard. “Solas.”

He tensed at the sound of her voice, his shoulders stiffening, and her heart broke all over again. What had happened to the days when he would light up as she spoke to him, his smile lifting the shadows away from his face? “Yes, Inquisitor?”

Always ‘Inquisitor’ now, never her name. She wished he would turn to face her, but he stood where he was. “I came to ask a favor,” she told him, dragging her feet as she approached. She longed to reach out, to place a hand on his arm and feel him melt beneath her touch. But those days were past, and she couldn’t bear the thought of him shrinking away from her.

“Oh?” His tone was even, measured, and she paused.

“Yes.”

 _Please,_  part of her silently pleaded.  _Talk to me. We can work this out. I know we can._

But he’d made his choice. Arguing with him wouldn’t change anything, and there was no sense in dwelling on her own feelings when the fate of the world hung in the balance.

“I think we all know a confrontation with Corypheus is imminent,” she said instead. “We’ve been preparing strategies.” She fidgeted uncomfortably. “Solas, no matter what happened between us, I need you with me,” she blurted out, speaking the words before she even realized she was saying them. “We need our best chance against him.” Since that horrible night, she’d brought both Dorian and Vivienne along with her on various excursions. Both brilliant, powerful mages, yet neither of them were attuned to her particular strategies, nor those of Cassandra and Varric.

Part of her had been expecting an argument–been preparing for it, even. The amount of time she’d spent over the past few days planning it was embarrassing. But to her utter surprise, he gave in easily.

“I would be happy to help in the final battle, Inquisitor.”

Since when did he use that formal, impersonal tone with her? But he was giving in without a fight, and the rational voice in her head informed her that this was as good as she was going to get.

“Good. Thank you.” And then she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

But every step away from him was agony, and she silently begged him to call out after her.

_Wait. I was wrong. I love you. I’m sorry._

But none of it came.

She stepped out into the main hall, dodging the clusters of people gathered there. So many people–when had the Inquisition grown this large? But she fought down the sudden surge of ill will. Her advisers would need to know they could count on Solas for the looming battle.

Cullen would have been the obvious choice to go to, but instead, she found herself heading for Josephine’s office. The ambassador was scribbling away at something, head bowed over her desk, and she slightly jumped as she glanced up. “Oh, Cienna! I almost didn’t see you,” she said, setting aside her quill. “Did you need something?”

There was a growing lump in her throat, but she forced the words past it. “Solas says he’ll be with us for the fight,” she said stiffly. And then, “That’s  _all_  he says.”

The first part would have been sufficient, and she immediately felt embarrassed. The world was about to end, and here she was, wasting Josephine’s valuable time with her own heartache. But Josephine’s eyebrows knitted together as her mouth turned down, and she stood, gesturing toward the chairs in front of her fireplace. “Sit down,” she said. “Tell me everything.”


End file.
